


Poor Reception

by vaulkner



Category: Darker Than Black
Genre: F/M, Gen, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 21:39:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2483372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaulkner/pseuds/vaulkner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he calls her, it doesn't go to voicemail like he imagined it would.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poor Reception

When he calls her, it doesn't go to voicemail like he imagined it would. Instead, he gets a clear pick up from the other end of the line, and amidst the pain firing through his nerves, he feels relief. Her voice is clear, but concerned; she addresses him directly _where are you_? He huffs a laugh, still delirious from relief (or is he just delusional, now), telling her the cross street he's dragging himself down. Her answer is a quick affirmative and then another query _daijoubu desu ka?_ So many answers spin through his head, a dozen morbid jokes, something he wishes he could laugh off with her on the other end of the line.

 

Instead, he replies _iie, no, no, no, I'm dying, I'm not kidding._

 

To her credit, her response is surprisingly measured, even though there's a sudden uptick in tone; she's afraid, she's worried, she's on her way _so stay right there, November._ He cuts her off, reminded why he made the phone call in the first place. A warning, to tell her he's gotten her in trouble. That she needs to watch out, because he'd made a mistake. His judgment had been rational at the time, but in hindsight, there were too many emotions coloring it too. He's telling her to stay away, reiterating his words from earlier _trust your instincts, don't trust anyone else_. But what he's actually saying, what's really coming out of his mouth is _I love you, don't die because of me_.

 

She hasn't heard it though, since the last thing he's hearing from the receiver is 

 

_November– Jack, can you hear me?_


End file.
